


Where the Lovelight Gleams

by Seascribe



Category: due South
Genre: Found Families, Friendship, Gen, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seascribe/pseuds/Seascribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser's been kind of mopey all week.  Ray's determined to cheer him up, even if he has to go out in a blizzard to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Lovelight Gleams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pumpkinonwheels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinonwheels/gifts).



> Set some time before Gift of the Wheelman. Thanks to Butterflyghost for looking this over! The title is from the carol "I'll Be Home for Christmas."

*  
"It's snowing, it's snowing!" 

Ray groans and buries his head under the pillow, trying to drown out the sound of Maria's kids shrieking and thundering up and down the stairs. It's December in Chicago, of course it's snowing. Nothing to get excited about, especially at seven in the morning on his Saturday off. 

Tony starts bellowing at the kids to knock it off, and Ray gives up on ever getting back to sleep. He drags himself out of bed and down the stairs without tripping over any of his nieces or nephews and is halfway through his second cup of coffee before he finally looks out the window.

Wow. It's really coming down out there, like something that wouldn't look out of place up in the frozen middle-of-nowhere that Fraser calls home. The thought makes Ray grin. This is definitely Benny's kind of weather. He's probably outside forcing the wolf to re-acclimate himself to his natural environment, or something equally ridiculous. 

Crazy Mountie. But maybe a good blizzard will cheer him up. He's been kind of mopey all week, heaving these sad little sighs and then saying, "Everything is perfectly fine, Ray," which Ray knows by now is actually Canadian for, "I am completely miserable, but I'd rather chop my own foot off than admit it."

Normally, Ray wouldn't even think of setting foot outside in weather like this, let alone taking the Riv out of the garage, but he's been trying to think of a way to cheer Benny up, and here Mother Nature is lending him a helping hand. Ray finishes his coffee and goes to find his warmest pair of socks.

*

Ray's a little surprised that Fraser's not already at the little park where they usually go with Dief. And he's not helping any of the neighbourhood street people built sturdier lean-tos or teaching them how to maximize the heat output of their fires. There's almost a foot of snow on the ground already, and Fraser's not out stomping around in it? Ray hopes he's not sick. Maybe Grant Park is a better substitute for Arctic terrain, and he dragged the wolf out there for some tracking practice.

Ray figures one of Fraser's neighbours will know where to find him, and he's just about to knock on Mr Mustafi's door when he hears Fraser snap, "I hardly think that's a fair accusation," from inside his apartment. Fraser's gotta be sick after all, if he's sitting at home fighting with the wolf on a day like this.

"Hey, Benny," Ray calls through the door. "Open up." 

Dief makes a growly, whimpery noise, and Fraser hisses, "Well, you can keep your opinions to yourself!" before opening the door. He's wearing his red long johns and his hair is messier than Ray's ever seen it.

"I'd have brought you some of Ma's lasagna, if I'd known you were sick," Ray says, hanging his coat up on the hook next to Fraser's. "Figured you and the wolf would be out frolicking in the snow." 

"Yes, well," Fraser says. "Diefenbaker and I were just discussing that. But I'm not sick, Ray, my temperature isn't elevated, and I don't have a cough or any other symptoms indicative of most common illnesses."

Ray eyes him skeptically. "Fraser, it's ten o'clock on a Saturday morning with snow coming down like gangbusters, and you're still in your pyjamas. _Something_ is going on with you."

Diefenbaker yips, like he's agreeing. Fraser glares at him.

"There is nothing wrong with choosing to appreciate the snow by watching it from the comfort of my own apartment," Fraser says defensively. 

"Yeah, not for normal people," Ray agrees. "But for you, Benny, it's downright unnatural. Come on, get dressed and you can teach me how to make snowshoes out of traditional materials."

"I doubt that caribou rawhide and sinew are readily available in Chicago," Fraser says. He's doing that naive act of his, all big blue eyes and sincerity, like if he just acts clueless long enough, Ray will get annoyed and leave him alone. Well, Ray is annoyed, but he's not leaving.

"Then you can teach me how to track the caribou, just in case any ever get lost and wind up down here," Ray says. He can play this game pretty well by now.

"That seems extremely unlikely, Ray." 

"Yeah, like that's ever stopped you," Ray says. "Come on, Fraser, this is the closest Chicago is going to come to feeling like the great white north, you ought to be out there enjoying it while it lasts."

Fraser's chin drops onto his chest, and now Ray feels like shit because there was the line, way back there, and he'd gone crashing right over it without even meaning to. Of course the Mountie doesn't want to go out and play in the snow, because it's crappy Chicago snow, turning grey with exhaust and dirt, smushed with hundreds of other people's footprints, and all it's going to do is remind him how far away he is from home. So much for cheering Fraser up.

"Hey, tell you what, Ma's making ziti tonight. Why don't you come over? You know how much she loves feeding you." 

And that's it, that's the right thing to say, because Fraser looks up and smiles the first real smile Ray's seen out of him all week. "I would like that very much, Ray." 

*

Ma's thrilled to see Fraser, of course, kisses him twice on both cheeks before trying to make him eat half his weight in pasta. Fraser thanks her kindly and tries gamely to clean his plate. 

"Such a good appetite!" Ma says approvingly, packing up a couple of tupperware containers for Fraser to take home. She'd have a heart-attack if she knew that the contents of at least one of them was going to find its way into Dief's bowl, but Ray's not telling.

"Give up the remote, Tony," Ray says. "There's company, and he wants to watch hockey." 

"Really, Ray, the football game is perfectly fine," Fraser protests. He's sitting primly on the couch, trying to keep Maria's youngest kid from chewing on the brim of his hat. 

"Shut up, Fraser. You're a guest, you get to pick what's on the tv." 

"I see," Fraser says. "Perhaps basketball might be a suitable compromise?" 

"I made hot chocolate!" Frannie announces, setting a tray of mugs down on the coffee table. "Here, Fraser, I put extra marshmallows in yours."

"Thank you kindly, Francesca," Fraser says, and deftly swaps her the toddler for the mug of hot chocolate, offering her his place on the couch. "Ray, is the fireplace functional?" 

"Yeah, but we haven't used it in years," Ray says. "You want to build a fire?" 

"It does seem to be the only missing element for a perfect winter evening," Fraser says with a perfectly straight face, gesturing with his hot chocolate. 

"There might be some wood still in the garden shed," Ray says. "Hang on, I'll go look." 

There is, and Fraser positively beams when Ray lugs it back, holding the bundle carefully so the splinters won't snag his shirt. 

"Excellent! Now if you would aim the flashlight while I check for creosote and obstructions in the flue--" 

Maria's son tries to "help," and Fraser snags him by the collar, holding him at arm's length away from the fireplace while he pokes around in the chimney with his free hand. 

"Perfect," Fraser announces, dusting off his hands and pulling out a book of matches from his jeans pocket. "Now, Ray, if their parents don't mind and you'd like to assist me, this could be an opportunity to teach your nieces and nephews some valuable survival and fire safety skills." 

"I would most definitely not like to assist you, Fraser," Ray says. "Scram, kids. Go drink your hot chocolate."

It takes Fraser about two minutes to get the fire going, and he's right, it does make everything seem just a little bit better, the whole family safe and warm in here, making their usual racket while they drink their hot chocolate and the snow piles up outside. Ray goes to get some more hot chocolate, and when he comes back, Benny's sitting on the ottoman, hot chocolate balanced on one knee and Maria's baby on the other. She's wearing his hat, which seems to be the only way to keep it out of her mouth. It covers both of her eyes, and she lifts it up, peeking out from underneath it expectantly. Benny makes the puffin face at her, and she snorts with laughter, letting the hat fall back down over her face.

Fraser looks like he belongs here. He shouldn't, too broad, too pale, too polite--too _Canadian_ \--but he does. Chicago's not home for him, probably won't ever really be, but this right here, this room full of family that has a space in it that belongs to Benny, is something he doesn't have anywhere else, something he hasn't had since he was six years old. Even if he does still get to pick what's on the tv, he's not really a guest anymore. He belongs. Ray wonders if Fraser's figured that out yet. 

"Hey, Benny, you going to Mass with us in the morning?" 

"Certainly, Ray," Fraser says, and the smile on his face makes Ray feel like maybe he gets what it's like up there in the Territories when the sun finally comes up again after the winter.


End file.
